<!--IPTC: (el) AE18scrockside_CM01 Genet Peacock works on the hair of client Barbara Richardson at Great Looks Salon , 1930 S. Havana St. in Aurora on Wednesday October 14, 2009. Peacock spoke about the new Chris Rock documentary on hair stylists. Cyrus McCrimmon, The Denver Post-->

<!--IPTC: Ronald Springer is one of three hair experts being interviewed for a sidebar to the Chris Rock interview. Rock has made a terrific "Docu-comedy" on black hair, called "Good Hair." Judy DeHaas, The Denver Post-->

“Good Hair” wasn’t just a job for comedian Chris Rock — it was an adventure in the meaning of black hair. And the documentary of discovery should prove an eye-opening, side-splitting ride for Denver audiences when it opens Friday.

Rock calls it a “docu-comedy.” Longtime writing partner Jeff Stilson directed the film. Rock produced and acts as our guide.

Even so, it’s clear he had a great deal to do with the journey.

“We shot it together. We cut it together,” Rock said. “But I’m the black guy in the relationship, so I get a little rights for the black hair movie.”

Even on the phone, the comic’s voice has that tickling, wavering energy. And his answers come as pointed observations and funny asides.

“I could give you the ‘Black in America’ answer or the real answer,” he said when asked about black fathers and their wee daughters. “I could give you the Henry Louis Gates’ answer or the actual answer,” the four-time Emmy winner added.

Come February, the comic might even add “Oscar-nominated” to his resume if the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences documentary gatekeepers get with the program. Because “Good Hair” is better than riotous. It’s illuminating.

In “Good Hair,” Rock travels to a hair exporter in India, an Asian hair importer in L.A. He sits in beauty shops and barbershops. He conducts interview with celebs like Ice T, Nia Long, Al Sharpton and womenfolk who get their hair relaxed or sit for hours having someone else’s hair woven into theirs.

The movie begins on a personal note. His youngest daughter asked, “Daddy, why don’t I have good hair?”

She and her sister are lovely. So the question caused a parental pang. Rock uses this personal exchange to leap into the cultural fray about black hair — particularly its tangled meaning for African-American women.

Still, Rock said the seeds were sown even earlier. As a young comic on the stand-up circuit, he was in Atlanta when he visited the Bronner Bros. International Hair Show.

More than 100,000 participants descend upon Atlanta for the the yearly confab on African-American hair care. There’s even a battle royale of stylists. Finalists choreograph elaborate productions while cutting hair. Think “Bring It On” with scissors.

“I thought it would make a great movie,” said Rock about this first experience with the event. “And we deal with the competition like it’s a sport.”

In 2007, captured in the film,the Hair Battle contenders included Tanya Crumel and Kevin Kirk of Birmingham, Ala., Freddie J from Dallas, Derek J. and Jason Griggers both from the hometown.

That last guy, by the way, is the only non-black participant. And with his blond bob and shiny-happy demeanor, he makes an endearing underdog. Except that when interviewed, Grigger’s competitors admit he’s the one they’re most worried about. He’s got mad skills.

“Jason Griggers,” Rock said ruefully. “When you’ve done a movie, you’ve been through something with someone. My relationship with Jason Griggers is no different than my relationship to Anthony Hopkins. We’ll always have this. I’ll always know Jason Griggers.”

Hair, by the book

Hair matters.

There are books: “Happy to Be Nappy (Jump at the Sun)” and “Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America.” Tyra Banks gave Rock one at the start of his journey. And the talk-show host caused a mild commotion when she took her weave out for TV.

There are websites for treated hair and hair weaves (the process in which human hair is attached to webbing and the person’s own hair to give the wearer long locks). There are sites for natural hair with domain names like thecoilreview .com and curlylox.com.

Any notion that Rock’s movie might be betraying the cone of cultural silence seems a little silly in this post-modern, “post-racial” landscape.

Then again, maybe there are reasons to have jitters. Two years ago, radio’s Don Imus used Spike Lee’s genius scene in “School Daze” — of two squads of black women having a Jets-Sharks song-and-dance rumble about good and bad hair — to excuse his offensive language about the Rutgers University basketball team.

Yes, hair matters.

Perhaps to all of us — not just black women — more than we care to admit.

There’s no shortage of mainstream products for straight- haired ladies.

Rogaine and Just for Men existed long before “metrosexual” came into the cultural lexicon. And Troy Palomalu isn’t the only gridiron guy wonderfully vain about his long hair. There are a whole squad of black NFL players with their locks and braids flowing from beneath their helmets.

But, said Rock, when it came to making an entertaining movie, he and his collaborators had to focus on women and hair.

“Initially the movie was going to be the Bronner Bros. and black hair, women’s and men’s. But after a while, we accepted that no one cares about black men unless it’s about how they feel about women’s hair.”

The filmmakers came to a similar conclusion about covering the natural-hair movement. “Cold Case” cast member Tracie Thoms represents the naturally worn contingent.

Rock’s own ah-hah moment came when he heard from other men about the “you can’t touch a black women’s hair” moment.

“I have lived it and practiced it,” he said, but hadn’t realized how shared a taboo it was.

“It was one of those things I’d been trained to do — or not — for most of my adult life. I don’t touch my wife’s hair. Even when I was dating after a certain point, issues would arise.” But, at the time he thought, only sort of jokingly, “I can’t believe a woman’s alone with me. So let me not mess this up.”

But, the interviewer asked, isn’t all this primping about men?

“Oh it’s not because of men,” he replied. “It’s not even a black woman thing. Women dress for women. You compare each other’s style all the time. You don’t hear men saying ‘where’d you get that jacket,’ ‘where’d you get that hoodie?’ Maybe a pair of sneakers. Women dress for women. Women do their hair for women, and men pretty much accept the woman that’s in front of them.”

So how about his daughter’s question?

“My daughter was so young at that time. Still is,” he said of the tender-hearted moments between him and his inquisitive daughters.

“One thing about kids, you can’t overreact to what kids say.. . . So when my daughter mentioned the words ‘good hair,’ I probably drove her to Friendly’s and said, ‘Let’s get some ice cream.’ “

Local stylists weigh in on a hands-off topic

Chris Rock said his favorite scenes in “Good Hair,” his hair- sterical docu-comedy (phew, got that out of our system), remain the moments spent in the barbershops, where the menfolk commiserated, and hair salons, watching as customers went to extreme lengths to remake their hair. So we consulted three local hair experts for some thoughts, some dish, some trade secrets. Lisa Kennedy

Who do women go through all this for? “Women, especially black women, we do a lot of our hair stuff for other women.”

How’d she get started? “When I decided it was time to leave corporate America and do something outside of hating my job, it took me a while to realize what it is I wanted to do. But my father, my husband, my brother — those I love and trust — helped me see it was fashion hair.”

Rock said he learned a lot about not touching a woman’s hair. Sound familiar? “That’s so true. My kids know that. My husband knows that. The first thing I do when I come home is tie my hair up. I don’t even play. For our seventh anniversary, my husband surprised me and got us a room at the Hotel Teatro. So sweet. So beautiful. I hate to say it, but he packed the bag. When I opened it I said, ‘Where’s my head scarf?’ The rest of the night, I was fuming. ‘Boo, why didn’t you pack my scarf?’ ”

Will she see “Good Hair”? “Absolutely. I cannot wait.”

Genet Peacock, stylist at Good Looks Hair & Nails in Aurora.

Miss Peacock — as one respectful client calls her — has been in on the black hair conversation for nearly five decades. She began working with hair at 19.

Does she have any words of wisdom? “I used to teach cosmetology, and I taught hair was hair. Hair can be curly or overly curly to the point of it being kinky. But there’s not good hair or bad hair. There’s just hair. I don’t like the term “nappy.” It’s offensive. I wear a lot of wigs, weaves and hair pieces. That doesn’t mean I don’t like my hair or myself.

Will she see “Good Hair”? “I’ll see it when it comes out on DVD. I’m not sure I like what it says publicly about our culture, so I don’t care to view it publicly. The world has been dying to see what we do with our hair. It’s personal.”

Ronald Springer, owner of Akente Express, an African novelty and hair/skin-care emporium that has been a hub on the outskirts of Five Points for 19 years.

How did a nice guy with a basketball scholarship end up in a place like…? ” I started as a novelty shop and over the years transitioned more to hair and skin care. When I started I was rather naive about what sisters and their hair meant. All I knew was you didn’t get to play in it and it was always a work in progress.”

Should Miss Jessie of the popular “Curly Pudding” and “Butter Cream” lines watch her back? “I created a product called Ultimate Hair Food. And the sisters love it. Once I got a little lax and hadn’t made any. Four sisters came in and asked what they could do to get a new batch on the shelves. So they minded the store and I went to the kitchen for four hours.”

Will he see “Good Hair”? I’ve been learning a lot more about sisters and hair issues and the lengths people go to keep their hair right. So that movie I have to smile and laugh about because I like the comedy aspect of it. I have to check it out. Rock calls it like it is.

Vic Damone, a pop crooner whose creamy baritone and heartthrob good looks propelled his success at the jukebox and on-screen in the post-World War II era, and for five decades more in nightclubs and concert halls, died Feb. 11 at a hospital in Miami Beach. He was 89.